


Eight

by amathela



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-29
Updated: 2007-10-29
Packaged: 2017-10-08 08:24:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/74620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amathela/pseuds/amathela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are things she knows.  Not all of them are true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eight

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers up to episode _2:6 - Home (Part One)_.

She was born on Troy. The best present she ever received was when she was seven years old; her father had picked up a smooth, almost round black stone, polished it until it was shiny, and given it to her. She carried it with her for the next six years; though she lost more than the stone that day, it's the loss she sometimes feels the most, as if the physical reminder of her childhood could somehow keep her family alive. Her first kiss was with a boy named Mark at the age of fourteen; her first sexual experience with him was two years later, tipsy off a few swigs of stolen moonshine.

None of these things are true.

-

She remembers the day she earned her wings, surrounded by the crew she'd come to know as family. She remembers her first flight in the Raptor with Helo, so nervous he'd offered to sit up front with her through takeoff; her first kiss with Tyrol; her thousandth landing, more than tipsy and with red paint over her helmet.

These things are more true; she knows they happened to some Sharon, somewhere. She knows, too, that that Sharon was not her, but most of the time, she prefers to believe that it was.

-

These things are the truest:

She found Helo on Caprica. They ran from the Cylons, returned with Starbuck to the Colonial fleet. They made love in the rain, the drops of water cooling her spine. She loves him.

It's too little, she thinks. It isn't enough for the life of a woman; it's a matter of months, of years. She remembers her life as if it were her own, and she can't help but wonder if memories are enough; if her consciousness is a unified soul, or if it's just a few lines of code, downloaded into her brain. The line between what she knows and what she believes is fuzzy, but it's there, and the people around her are only too happy to remind her of it.

These are the things she knows to be true: She loves Helo. She's carrying his child. She is Sharon Valerii.

She can only hope those things are enough.


End file.
